


what does YOLO even mean, though

by Kalael



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Gunplay, Hand Jobs, M/M, idk i watched the bling ring and thought it'd be fun to make jack into hollywood trash, it's an au about some thieving club rats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 22:06:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalael/pseuds/Kalael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So long as he timed it right he could get in anywhere, no matter whose house it was.  He’d always skip over Ellen Degeneres’ house, though.</p><p>(this is really just porn okay)</p>
            </blockquote>





	what does YOLO even mean, though

**Author's Note:**

> I stole that title from a song I'm not that clever

It would never cease to amaze him how such high profile celebrities had such terrible security. It wasn’t hard to hack the cameras so that they’d be on loop, and a quick search for a spare key or unlocked window would keep the alarms from going off. Once or twice he’d even figured out the garage codes, which had granted him access to some very nice stereo systems. The false sense of security these people had despite their posse of bodyguards in public was just laughable.

So long as he timed it right he could get in anywhere, no matter whose house it was. He’d always skip over Ellen Degeneres’ house, though. She was pretty much his idol, there was no way he’d steal anything from her. Besides, there were plenty of other celebs with way more expensive and pretty things. No offense to Ellen, of course, she just...didn’t quite suit his style.

He opened the closet door and gave a low whistle of appreciation at the spread of jewelry and accessories. Jackpot.

\--

Pitch woke up to the sound of cabinets opening and closing in the kitchen below. At first he figured that it was morning and the housekeeper was taking care of the dishes, but a bleary glance at the clock told him that it was four in the morning. Definitely not the housekeeper, then. He rolled out of bed and grabbed the gun he kept in the bedside drawer before quietly heading downstairs. The kitchen lights were on and someone was messing with the glasses. It went quiet as he neared the entrance to the kitchen and after a moment Pitch walked calmly into the room, gun held in front of him with his finger on the trigger.

“Want some wine?” Jack asked pleasantly from his seat on the granite counter. Pitch sighed with exasperation and put the gun down to rub his forehead. “Hey, don’t put that away, that was pretty hot. Not every day I get to see you shirtless with a revolver.”

“It’s not every day you decide to break into my house.” Pitch retorted, but he kept the gun out as he walked towards Jack to take the offered glass of wine. “What on earth are you wearing.”

“You like? I hit up a few houses on the way over, there’s some gala in New York that has a bunch of B-listers out of town. Personally I think the fox stole is pretty cute. Inhumane, but cute.” Jack crossed his legs as he admired the fur around his shoulders, and Pitch glanced down at his shoes.

“You’re wearing heels.” Pitch announced a bit stupidly. Jack smirked and raised one leg to trail his stolen shoes up Pitch’s thigh.

“They’re a perfect fit.” Jack sang. The thin heel caught on the waistband of Pitch's pants and he moved a step back.

“They’re gaudy.” He rolled his eyes with a disgusted sound while Jack waggled his eyebrows.

“You like them, don’t even lie. Look,” Jack slid from the counter and pressed himself to Pitch’s chest. The heels added an extra five inches to Jack’s height and it made it easier for him to trail his lips over Pitch’s jaw. “I’m keeping them. And the four other pairs I swiped tonight. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find Louboutins in my size?”

“About as difficult as breaking into someone’s house is, I suppose.” Pitch said dryly. Jack laughed against his neck and grabbed Pitch’s wrist, bringing the hand with the wine glass over so that he could drink from it. Pitch watched him without saying a word.

“I wish it were that easy.” Jack licked his lips and walked past Pitch to get himself a glass. He pulled off the fox stole and set it aside, revealing an oversized silk blouse that fell from one shoulder as he reached for the cabinet with the cut crystal goblets that Pitch only saved for special occasions. He was stopped by the feeling of cold metal sliding across his neck.

“Did you manage to steal anything I can sell or did you do this to pad your already extensive wardrobe?” Pitch asked dangerously. Jack laughed, his breath hitching when Pitch pressed the barrel of the gun under his jaw.

“Don’t worry, I snagged some pretty things you can get a nice profit on. Nice, mostly nondescript things that will fit nicely with your stock of stolen properties.” He pressed his back against Pitch’s chest and the gun slid down past his collarbones. “I’m really, really glad you didn’t put the gun away.”

“I’m debating shooting you.” Pitch murmured against his ear. Jack leaned into him and sighed as Pitch nipped over his pulse.

“I’m too valuable for that.” Jack whispered. The gun dipped under the collar of his shirt and Jack tensed slightly at the cold of it.

“There are plenty of young thieves looking to get what you have, you’re easy to replace.” Pitch pulled his lips away but the gun didn’t move from where it was resting over Jack’s heart.

“None of them have my charms.” Jack smiled and relaxed when the metal began to warm slightly against his skin.

“They’d certainly know to hold their tongues.” At that Jack turned his head and licked a stripe up the side of Pitch’s neck, drawing out a stuttering breath from Pitch.

“You like my tongue.” Jack told him between sloppy kisses.

“You’re terrible at being subtle.” Pitch said, even as he arched his neck for Jack to get better access to it.

“You also like that I’m flashy. This banter is getting a little stale.” Jack's kisses pressed harder and Pitch shifted so that the barrel of the gun pressed threateningly into Jack's ribs. Jack froze, less from fear than anticipation.

“I’m just wondering if I’d rather have you on your knees in all your stolen finery, or struggling to stand in those ridiculous shoes.” Pitch said casually. Jack’s mouth clicked shut, for once unable to come up with a retort as he considered the options. Pitch took that moment of hesitation on Jack's part to swing him around towards the island counter in the center of the kitchen.

"Whoa, give a guy some warning-" 

"Shut up and brace yourself against the counter." Pitch interrupted. Jack did as he was told, pressing his lower back against the cold granite and gripping it tightly. The position put him at an awkward angle and his calves were already starting to cramp from the heels, but Pitch wouldn't have cared even if he knew. Jack jolted as Pitch trailed the gun up his inner thigh and his breath caught as he realized Pitch's finger was on the trigger. One wrong move and Pitch could blow his junk right off.

That really shouldn't have turned him on as much as it did.

"Adrenaline junkie." Pitch said fondly, bringing the gun up to trace Jack's lips. Jack opened his mouth to lick at the barrel, tasting metal and something else he couldn't place. Pitch slid the revolver further into his mouth until it was pressing his tongue down, and Jack made a small sound as he shut his eyes.

"You could die like this. All I'd have to do is pull the trigger and there'd be a bullet lodged into your throat." Pitch hummed thoughtfully, then shoved the gun as far as it would go before his knuckles were pressed to Jack's lips. Jack swallowed helplessly around it and trembled where he stood. They remained like that for a while, Jack's mouth opened as wide as possible with his lower lip against the trigger guard and Pitch watching him with a darkened expression.

"It would be a waste of a pretty face, however." Pitch finally pulled the gun away and set it aside, out of Jack's reach in case he felt like returning the favor. Jack wiped away the spit that pooled at the corners of lips and Pitch caught his hand to bite at his palm. He kissed up Jack's wrist until the sleeve of his blouse got in the way, and then he released it so Jack could brace himself better.

Jack tried to steady his knees, his calves cramping up from wearing the heels for too long and his heart pounding from the gunplay. He definitely wasn’t going to complain, he was getting exactly what he’d been asking for. Maybe a little more than he’d really bargained for, but nothing he couldn’t handle. He still sucked in a sharp gasp when Pitch grabbed him through his pants and squeezed a little too hard.

“I’m not going to fuck you.” Pitch said bluntly. Jack opens his mouth to protest but Pitch cut him off by shoving three fingers into his mouth. “You broke into my house when you have a key, you woke me up at four in the morning, and you opened a bottle of wine that I was saving for next month. I’m not going to reward you by giving you exactly what you want.” He squeezed again and Jack whimpered.

“Shit, Pitch.” He hissed through his teeth once Pitch withdrew his fingers.

“Keep standing. You were so eager to impress me with those shoes, it’d be a shame if you couldn’t hold your balance.” Pitch smiled unpleasantly and unzipped Jack’s pants. He paused at the feeling of lace under his fingers and it was Jack’s turn to smile.

“Didn’t think I’d find out about your lingerie kink, did you.”

“Kindly shut up.” Jack gave him the best shit eating grin he had to offer and Pitch took great pleasure in wiping it off his face with a violent kiss. Jack tilted his head so that their lips slanted against each other’s, and it was more teeth than tongue. Jack nearly bit down on Pitch’s lip when warm fingers wrapped around his cock, jerking a little too roughly.

“Careful.” Jack breathed out between kisses. Pitch bit his lip in response and squeezed, definitely too hard, but Jack’s hips stuttered forward even as he leaned further back against the counter.

“You hate it when I’m careful.” Pitch told him. “If you’re having that much trouble then maybe I should…” He began to withdraw his hand, dragging his fingers slowly along Jack’s skin.

“Don’t you fucking dare, you bastard.” Jack swore. One hand flailed towards Pitch, gripping his forearm in a feeble attempt to keep him still. Pitch laughed, a low sound that reverberated through Jack’s chest as Pitch pressed against him.

“You’re too demanding for someone who has very little control over the situation. Should I gag you? Tie your hands behind your back?” Pitch pressed his lips to Jack’s cheek and kissed towards his ear. “But then I wouldn’t get to see you struggle to stay standing, because you’d certainly collapse. I know you, Jack. You like challenges. So let me make this difficult for you.”

“Okay.” Jack hissed, breathless and defeated as Pitch’s hand traced lightly over his cock. “Okay, challenge me, then.”

Pitch gave him an indulging smile and then yanked Jack’s pants down his hips. Jack threw his head back when Pitch palmed his cock harder than before, ragged nails catching Jack’s thighs and leaving red welts. He was already painfully turned on but Jack was certain that part of the challenge was holding out for as long as he could, so he grit his teeth and stared Pitch down while the man continued to smile at him. Jack’s hands moved back to the counter when Pitch began to slowly jerk him off, his fingers tightening on the upstroke and twisting in a way that made Jack’s throat catch. His thighs were already trembling and his pants had slipped to his knees, making it impossible to spread his legs any further.

Pitch just watched him, his eyes trained intently on Jack’s face. Jack tried to maintain eye contact for as long as he could but when Pitch thumbed the head of his cock he let out a thin whine and let his head fall back.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Jack gasped out. Pitch leaned in to lick a stripe up his neck and Jack made a garbled sound, then leaned in to bite at Pitch’s lips. The kiss didn’t last long, with Jack groaning against Pitch’s mouth as he came.

“That was fast. I imagine the adrenaline rush from earlier lowered your stamina.”

“Oh, my god. Just stop talking.” Jack groaned. Pitch laughed fondly and allowed Jack to slump against him. After a moment he wiped his dirty hand on the back of Jack’s blouse.

“Are you fucking kidding me.”

“You can’t keep it anyway, that’s a designer shirt.”

"Fucking asshole.”

“That’s the plan.”

**Author's Note:**

> and then they probably banged in Pitch's oversized pimp bed and Jack made him bring the gun.


End file.
